Every day last week I woke up, slipped on workout gear, dressed the kids, took them to daycare, then headed to the gym to work out. After getting reacquainted with muscles I had forgotten I owned and sweating buckets, I’d grab my gym bag and head to the showers.
A shower is a shower is a shower I thought. It gets you clean. Some are better than others for sure, but as long as they spit water at you long enough for you to rinse out the shampoo and conditioner, you make do.
As it turns out the shower at this gym is quite nice. It’s clean, the water pressure is decent, there’s plenty of space to move around, and the towels are plush, new, and plentiful. Oh, and no one bangs on the door asking if mommy is taking a shower and if she can have a peanut-butter waffle like right now please.
Sounds like heaven, right?
Turns out it wasn’t. By Friday all I wanted to do was shower in my own shower, with my million bottles of shampoo, old tiles, and not new at all towels. I wanted a little face to push up against the glass door and ask me if the waffles were ready yet. Then I wanted to get out and get ready in my own bathroom, with all the stuff that bathrooms accumulate which usually drive me up the wall.
By Saturday morning I felt like I had been away from home for a week and it was exhausting. All I wanted to do was go home, which was completely irrational since I had been home all week – sleeping in my bed, eating on my couch. I just hadn’t been showering at home. That was the only change in my routine.
Forget home being where you hang your hat. Turns out home is where you shower.
If I needed further convincing that this particular workout routine wasn’t the one for me, now I know. Showering at home is part of what makes me feel grounded and ready to face the day. I promise never to take it for granted again.